Rhoda had never been so frank and friendly; she induced the quiet, unpretending girl to talk of her early days, her schools, her family.

Remarkable was Milly's quiet contentedness; not long ago she had received an increase of payment from Miss Barfoot, and one would have judged that scarcely a wish now troubled her, unless it were that she might see her scattered brothers and sisters, all of whom, happily, were doing pretty well in the struggle for existence.
'You must feel rather lonely in your lodgings sometimes ?' said Rhoda.
'Very rarely.

In future I shall have music in the evening.

Our best room has been let to a young man who has a violin, and he plays "The Blue Bells of Scotland"-- not badly.' Rhoda did not miss the humorous intention, veiled, as usual, under a manner of extreme sedateness.
'Does Mrs.Widdowson come to see you ?' 'Not often.

She came a few days ago.' 'You go to her house sometimes ?' 'I haven't been there for several months.